


First Kisses, 19 Ways

by missingparentheses



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18058397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses/pseuds/missingparentheses
Summary: Nineteen stories of Rhett and Link's first kiss, as prompted by you, the readers.





	1. Behind the Bleachers

It wasn’t that they didn’t care about football. It was the South, after all, and Southerns  _love_  their local teams like no one else. It’s just that it wasn’t their sport—Rhett had his basketball and Link his soccer. And it wasn’t that they didn’t care for the energy of a high school homecoming game. How could you not get sucked in? The lights shone so bright it made the whole block radiate like midday despite it being well after sunset. And in the midst of the rumble, the roar of the crowd and the marching band, the cheers of the pretty cheerleaders in their miniskirts, Rhett and Link slipped from view.

They had rounded the perimeter of the field to the visitors’ side, hoping it gave them more anonymity if their attempts at covertness failed. They crept low, dodging bars overhead and trash around their feet, until they’d found the furthest, darkest corner they could manage.

Neither of them knew why they were here. It had slipped from Link’s mouth as he’d breathed close against Rhett’s ear to be heard over the fray, and he hadn’t known he was going to say it until it was too late— _”Wanna see what’s goin’ on under the bleachers?”_  Rhett had turned, met his eyes, squinting as he tried to read the subtext. But Link had held his ground, committed to whatever interpretation presented itself, and Rhett had nodded and nudged him to his feet.

They didn’t know who moved first, but somewhere in the darkness their hands had met, Link pulling Rhett along as their fingers entwined, and so when they stopped, it was almost no surprise. The evening had led them here with the same seamless, rumbling chaos as the crowd above them, and when their lips met, they grinned into the collision. They hadn’t seen it coming, but they’d felt the current and met it with welcome. It lasted only moments, then they laughed, giddy and flushed, till their bellies hurt. They watched the rest of the game between the feet of the visitors, hands clasped tight, sweaty and full of anticipation. It was homecoming, and it was a new day.


	2. In the Bed of Link's Truck

“S’quiet.”

“It  _was_ ,” Rhett chuckled. He’d practically drifted off to the tune of crickets and bullfrogs, and considering how long Link had been silent and his own propensity to sleep, Rhett had long since assumed he was the only one still awake at all.

“We should just stay here tonight,” Link said. “It’s warm enough, ain’t it? I don’t even need a blanket.”

“You would eventually.”

“Well, that’s why  _you’re_  here.”

Rhett turned his head. The stars were thick above them, but at the horizon, beyond the profile of Link’s nose and the slope of his forehead, the sky was still aglow with the last remnants of the sun, bleeding orange and pink across the tobacco fields. The colors painted his best friend’s face and made him glow like a bronze Apollo.

“Usually you fight me when I do that.”

Link closed his eyes and chuckled under his breath, but he said nothing. Instead he scooted closer to Rhett.

“You tryin’ to tell me you don’t mind it so much after all?”

Link shrugged, mouth quirking up in the corner. It was all the encouragement Rhett needed, and he hoisted himself up and rolled over onto Link’s body. With their noses inches apart, Rhett whispered.

“I’m dead.”

“Well, I’m not,” Link whispered back, and he closed the distance between them.


	3. In the Hotel Shower

It takes a lot of booze to down a 6′7″ giant. Though, much to Link’s relief, Rhett was just shy of having been taken down. He was, however, terribly unsteady on his feet, and it required all of Link’s strength to keep him upright on the journey from the Uber through the lobby and up the elevator to their shared room.

Once through the door, Link was unsure where to deposit the man. The fact was that he reeked, an acrid combination of sweat, (mostly) secondhand pot smoke, and the beer some guy had spilled down Rhett’s sleeve. Link swore they would never go to a concert this rowdy again. But in the meantime, he had choices to make. While he knew Rhett wouldn’t likely care too much about going to bed smelling like he did, Link couldn’t bear the thought. He would hate it himself, and he couldn’t in good conscience subject his best friend to something so offending to his own sensibilities. 

Without bothering to undress him, rationalizing that the clothing needed the wash as much as his body did, Link led him to the bathroom and lowered him to the closed toilet seat. He managed to keep him upright long enough to remove socks and shoes as the water warmed up, then he stripped himself down to his boxers and coaxed Rhett over the edge of the tub.

“You gotta stand up for me now, man,” Link huffed. “I can’t keep you up and get you clean at the same time. This is more painful for me than it is for you, so you gotta throw me a bone here.”

“I’m fine,” Rhett murmured. “Whaddya tryna do?”

“You’re not fine. You’re drunk, and you stink.”

 _“You_ stink!”

“Some role model you are. Hope no one recognized us.”

“You mad at me?”

Link made sure Rhett was braced against the corner of the shower as he filled his palm with shampoo. “No. I’m just getting flashbacks of raising toddlers.”

Rhett chuckled. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Link scoffed but couldn’t hide his smile. “Don’t.”

“You’re so nice to me, Daddy.”

“Knock it off, dude. You’re makin’ it weird.”

“You’re the one in your underwear.”

Link’s eyebrows raised as he nodded. “You got me there.”

Rhett sighed as Link’s fingertips massaged the soap into his hair. “S’nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you, honey,” Rhett said with a grin, eyes pressed closed as the soap ran down his face. “Thank you, sweetie.”

Link laughed, high and nervous. “Stop it.”

“Thank you, pookie.” He leaned down and missed his mark, kissing Link’s cheekbone. His eyes popped open, and he winced at the stinging shampoo. Link laughed and angled the spray toward Rhett’s face.

“Serves you right.”

Rhett shook his head, splattering water from head and beard across them both, until the soap was clear. Then he leaned in again. 

Link sighed into the kiss, caught somewhere between calm resignation and relief. Drunk kisses didn’t count, after all. When Rhett pulled back, Link saw the spark of alertness had returned to his eyes. He picked up the bar of soap and shoved it into Rhett’s hand.

“Wash up, Casanova. Then we’ll talk.”


	4. In Link's Room

Link had been unsettlingly quiet all day. They’d spent a typical Saturday exploring Harnett County, driving aimlessly out into the country and back again, but despite their usual laid-back routine, Rhett could feel the tension vibrating in the air around his friend. Finally, with a frozen pizza congealing on its cardboard tray in the middle of Link’s bedroom floor, Rhett took the plunge.

“What’s your deal today?”

Link shoved a bite of pizza into his mouth and kept his eyes on a stain on the carpet. “Nothin’,” he garbled around his food.

Rhett sighed. “C’mon, man. Out with it. You’re gonna tell me eventually anyway.” Link shook his head, then nodded in resignation, but an eternity passed before he finally finished chewing the solitary bite in his mouth. Once he’d swallowed, he set his slice back on the cardboard and angled his body toward Rhett.

“I feel like a jerk. I should be happy for you.”

“About the recruiter coming?”

Link nodded. “I’m bein’ selfish. I don’t—” His voice cracked, and he rolled his eyes, swiping roughly at the embarrassing moisture that had formed. “I don’t want you to go somewhere without me.”

“Did I say I was gonna do that? I don’t have a scholarship yet, Link. I haven’t made any plans.”

Link gave him a sardonic glare. “You’d be an idiot if you worked your life plans around me. I ain’t your wife.”

“You gotta be my wife for me to want to spend my life with you?”

Link blinked. He didn’t want to overreact to the statement; he knew Rhett was prone to sentimentalism when the mood struck him. He didn’t want to let his misplaced hopes drive his interpretation of his friend’s words. But Rhett inclined his head, dipping low to see up into Link’s downcast eyes.

“We made a vow.”

“We took an oath,” Link clarified. “Is that the same thing?”

“Why not?”

“So I am kinda like your wife? Is that what you’re sayin’?”

Rhett flashed his teeth. Then he glanced around his room, scanning messy desks and shelves, until his eyes landed on the twist-tie leftover from a sandwich bag. He scrambled to his feet and retrieved it, then he took Link’s left hand with great ceremony. Link giggled, high and nervous.

“Quit it, man; I ain’t a girl.”

“You don’t have to be a girl. Will you or won’t you?”

Link felt his heart pound in his chest. “Shut up, dude. Stop it.”

“Will you or won’t you?”

Link held his gaze, waiting for Rhett to flinch, to back down on this insane game of chicken. His mouth was bone dry, and he knew Rhett could feel his hand shaking. Finally he pushed the words past the tightness in his throat.

“I will,” he whispered.

Rhett smiled. He wrapped the twist-tie around Link’s ring finger, rolling the ends into a knotted approximation of a diamond.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Link choked on a sob as he lunged forward with a kiss.


	5. The Church Balcony

Their faith was the intersection of life and death.

Link had always felt it there, like a seed that was planted the day he was born and grew strong in his chest as he sprouted, green and thrumming with life, stretching its limbs through his own.

It was there when he first met Rhett. He felt the leaves tremble, and they tickled his insides and blossomed a bubble of joy in his throat that spilled out over clasped hands hushing. The leaves grew big and bold like an oak in summer. They were wide as Link’s hands stretched, fingers spread, intertwining with Rhett’s as they ran through fields and hid in the tall, dry grass.

God smiled on them while they lay together squinting at clouds, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. Their faith was of little consequence in that it was no bother, no imposition to their happiness. It just was. It was real like the sun and the breeze and the bumblebees buzzing past their tanned faces, grins wide and shining.

But autumn came in the teasing. Link didn’t know why they cared or what the words they called him and Rhett even meant, but he knew they sounded ugly, made him jerk his hand away when Rhett reached for him. He didn’t know why anyone would frown down on them when all they were was happy. When he asked his mama, she just shushed him, told him to finish his breakfast.

There was more snow than they’d seen in years, and the church was emptier than usual, all but the most devout too scared to brave the roads. But Rhett’s family was there in their place in the third row, and Link’s mama in the choir, leaving him to his own devices. Link saw her narrow her eyes as Rhett tapped his shoulder, the two boys scrambling from the pew and out the door to the lobby where the stairs led to the balcony, where there was no supervision on such a quiet Sunday morning.

They slouched low in their seat high above the rest. And when the sermon turned from sweet words about the God who had smiled down on them to warnings of his wrath, Link felt his skin crawl. Was that why the kids at school laughed, why they said their ugly words? Because they knew what God knew?

It was icy cold, and Link felt the death in his bones when he’d thought he was evergreen. He felt his chest begin to heave, but then there was weight, and warmth. The heat of Rhett’s palm spread from his rib cage, sparking buds of life from his veins and the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Don’t be scared, buddyroll,” Rhett whispered in his ear. “Don’t be scared.”

He kissed the corner of Link’s mouth, and Link knew. 

He knew.


	6. Link's Bachelor Party

The sound inside the apartment was rowdy and familiar. It was a few close friends laughing over video games and Mello Yello. There had been a few beers, sure—they weren’t  _total_  prudes—but overall it was pretty tame. Tame as any other day for a few good, God-fearing Southern boys.

Only after today, everything changed. It wasn’t just any other day.

Link settled down next to Rhett on the patio, letting the door swing shut behind him and muffle the sound within. He leaned back against the wall and slapped him on the knee.

“Whatcha doin’ out here?”

Rhett couldn’t stop swallowing, and he suddenly became self-conscious of it in Link’s presence. There was a lump, a thickness in his throat he couldn’t pass. He reached for the bag tucked on his other side.

“I got you somethin’.”

“Nice wrap job. What is this, a Walmart bag?”

“Only the best for you, man. Open it.”

Link pulled the heavy, rectangular can from the bag and studied it, eyebrows furrowed.

“Mineral spirits?”

“Get it?”

Link stared at him.

“Paint stripper! I got you a stripper!”

Link paused a moment longer, then he threw his head back and howled with laughter. Rhett chuckled, pleased his joke had gone over well. Then he leaned in and kissed him.

“Whoa,” Link immediately sobered, pulling back. “What…”

Rhett’s heart dropped into his stomach. He hadn’t planned it. He hadn’t even allowed the thought to fully form in his head. He started to press himself to a stand, to retreat, when Link grabbed his hand.

“You can’t just do that and run away.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhett murmured, still fighting to get away. “Please don’t tell Christy. Or Jessie.”

Link yanked his hand, pulling Rhett off balance and almost into his lap before he stumbled back down to the ground.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Too late.”

“I don’t mind that you did it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“It’s just that—”

“I know—”

“—tomorrow it’s too late—”

“Too late for what?”

“You know what.”

The silence was thick. They held each other’s gaze, until finally Link’s eyes squeezed tight and he sighed, resting his head back against the wall.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“I thought you didn’t mind that I did it.”

Link opened his eyes and leveled him with a glare. “I don’t mind that you did it. I mind that you waited this long.” He swallowed hard and looked away. “You were right. Now it’s too late.”


	7. Fiji

The warmth of the sun on Link’s skin translated to Rhett’s body.

He was rarely lucid in dreams, but somehow this was an exception. He knew he’d had this dream a thousand times, and he sank into it, determined to let it last. The setting changed, but the scenario was always the same: Rhett pulled the ‘I’m dead’ move on him, Link fought, then weakened, then melted beneath a deep kiss.

They were often in their old dorm room, or one of their childhood bedrooms. Often it was their office or the loft. Today Link found them in a place his unconscious mind had never taken them—aboard a boat, old-fashioned wood and rope riggings, but sturdy, and theirs. He knew in the dream that they were alone. Rhett spread out across his body, and their wrestling was lost in the rocking of the sea. He pressed their lips together without a word.

The rocking slowed, and the wooden deck beneath his back changed to soft sand. But two sensations remained: the sound of the waves, and the press of Rhett’s lips. He let reality reveal itself slowly from behind the safety of his eyelids, but these two factors remained, even as he reached full consciousness. Link opened his eyes.

Rhett released his lips and sat up.

“I couldn’t help it.”

Link smiled.


	8. College Dorm Room

Link was losing himself to a fit of giggles, and Rhett couldn’t even remember what had been so funny.

“Dude, you are so drunk.” He pulled the beer from Link’s hand. “That’s enough for you.”

Link’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated offense, and he reached for the can. When Rhett yanked it further from his reach, Link pulled the saddest puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ohh,” Rhett sighed, “look at you.”

Link snapped back into his giggles, and Rhett returned the can to Link’s fist, watching as he tipped it back.

“You’re cute.”

Link coughed on his beer. “Cute?”

“What’s wrong with cute?”

“It’s not very macho.”

“You don’t want girls to call you cute?”

Link coughed again, clearing the drink from his throat as he rested the can on his knee. “I guess that’s okay.”

“But I can’t say it?”

“I guess that’s okay too.”

Rhett shifted onto his knees and crawled closer to Link. “It is?”

“Are you flirtin’ with me, man?”

“I dunno. I’m drunk and you’re cute.”

“Is that a yes?”

Rhett pressed a kiss to his lips. “It’s a yes.”


	9. London, Valentine's Day, 2019

Link was watching his feet, a faint grin on his face. When he chuckled, he looked up to meet Rhett’s quizzical smirk.

“London, Rhett!” He looked back to his feet where they plodded down the sidewalk. “I like London.”

Rhett snorted a laugh and shook his head. “So silly.”

“That’s why you love me.”

Rhett laughed out loud. Then he shrugged. “It’s true.”

Link grinned, pleased with himself. Finally he tore his gaze from the ground and looked up to the buildings around them. It was morning, just after dawn, and they’d dragged themselves out of their hotel before the others to enjoy the city alone. They walked along in silence, hands brushing against each other, until they found themselves midway across the Westminster Bridge where they stopped to take in the sights of the London Eye and Big Ben.

Rhett cleared his throat. “Is it selfish that I’m glad we’re away for Valentine’s Day?”

“I dunno. Does it feel selfish?”

“I had flowers delivered.”

Link nodded. “Chocolate-covered strawberries.”

“We’re so basic.”

Link glanced around them. The bridge was fairly quiet this early in the morning, but the scenic spot was far from vacant. He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and leaned in, pressing up on his toes to whisper into Rhett’s ear.

“Happy V-day, buddy.” He kissed him on the cheek.

Rhett turned, cheeks round with mirth. He chuckled, then leaned down to press a short peck to Link’s smiling lips. “Same to you, bo.”


	10. In the Storage Room

They’re circling each other.

Only once before has it been like this. In the first few weeks of college, the first time they were living together, constantly in each other’s space, it felt like this. The things they talked about late into the night, night after night, both of them growing tired of waiting for marriage, especially now that they were out of their small town with its small town morals…

But things have been settled since then. They’ve got wives now—no more sexual frustration. And the way people talk about them, it keeps them from entertaining more. What would be the point?

At least, that’s how it had been. But the crew thinks the shipping is funny, and they know what the fans like. So they play with it. They’ve got them near-kissing over pasta now, licking everything in sight.

So when Link sees Rhett wander into the storage room, he decides he’s had enough. He follows him in and shuts the door behind him. Rhett turns at the sound, and his brow furrows.

“What’s up, man?”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

Rhett pauses as he scrutinizes him. “Get what over with?”

Link shakes his head and walks toward him, clenching and unclenching his fists. “You know what. I’m tired of all the jokes about us kissing. They’re just…I’m sick of being baited. Let’s just do it. Break the tension.”

Rhett feels his heart constrict, just a little, and he scrambles to decipher hurt from anticipation. Link catches only the hurt on his face and does his own scrambling.

“It’s not…it’s just…I can’t think about anything else till we do it. I’m, like, afraid I’m gonna accidentally do it on camera. So let’s just get it out of our systems or whatever.”

Rhett’s heart constricts further, and this time the hurt is gone. If something is occupying Link’s whole brain, he knows it’s something he really wants. And maybe it’ll get it out of his system, but more likely it’ll fuel the fire. He takes a step closer.

“You sure about this?”

“Well, I mean…only if you want.”

Closer. “I want.”

Rhett makes it good. He knows it might be his only chance to kiss Link for real, and he wants it to be memorable. He doesn’t anticipate the way they stumble backward into their old card table, knocking boxes to the floor, but they find in the moment they don’t care.

It’s important to get it out of Link’s system. It’s a public service, really.

It’s only natural it would take more than one try. If Link needs to make out on their office couch, it’s the least he can do. It seems logical enough when Link follows him into the bathroom and locks the door behind him, whispering, “It’s not out of my system yet.” And if they need to park down the street and recline the passenger seat of the car before Rhett drops him off at home, well, what else could have been done?

Then one day in the loft, Link slides into Rhett’s lap.

“I got somethin’ else I need to get out of my system.”

“I dunno, man,” Rhett says, hands sliding up his thighs. “It hasn’t worked too well with the kissing. Might just make it worse.”

Link takes his hand and presses it against the front of his jeans.

“I’m willing to risk it.”


	11. Cape Fear

The river had almost never lived up to its name. Maybe once or twice when they’d almost drowned, but that was physical fear, fear of death. This was different. Rhett wasn’t sure, but he thought this might be worse.

His seat on the rock was cold and hard and low enough that his legs were folded up against him, and he wrapped his arms around his shins and buried his face in the cocoon. He didn’t know what had come over him, blurting those things out, his stupid  _feelings_ , as if there had ever been reason before to speak them out loud. He’d done just fine keeping it all bottled up for years. What on earth had possessed him to think he should suddenly now do something different?

The only sound was the river and his own breath heavy from his chest. He turned his head and looked out over the rolling water, seeing in his mind’s eye a montage. Tossing their clothes in a pile as they tip-toed to the shore. The sun glowing red through their eyelids as they floated downstream. The laughter that had deepened and broadened yet somehow stayed the same. They weren’t those children anymore. But this was still their place.

Had he thrown it all away?

He peeked up over his knees at the higher rock. Link’s eyes were closed, his face emotionless. Rhett wanted to shout at him, to beg him to say something, anything. He was on the speaking rock, dammit! It was his turn!

So Rhett took a deep breath, rolled forward onto his knees, and crawled. He didn’t stop until he was crouched at Link’s feet. 

“You want me to take it back?”

Link blinked. “Why?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?”

Rhett straightened and turned toward the water. “I wrecked us.”

Link didn’t respond. But a moment later, Rhett felt Link’s arms wrap around his middle.

“I love you too.”

Rhett turned in his arms. “What?”

“You’re being so weird. Settle down. I love you.”

“You do?”

“Duh.”

Link kissed him, as casual as if they’d done it a hundred times.

“Give a guy a break. I was in shock. I needed a minute. I didn’t expect you to fall to pieces over it.”

When Rhett just continued to stare, dumbfounded, Link kissed him again.

“Wanna go swimming?”

Rhett blinked himself back to reality. He grinned. 

“Beat’cha there!”


	12. In the FJ Cruiser

“Another day, another fan service, am I right?”

Link’s only response was a smirk and a shake of the head. Rhett gave him a sideways glance as he pulled into the Neals’ driveway.

“What? Spit it out.”

Link laughed. “You’re full of shit. You know that, right?”

Rhett threw the Cruiser into park and put his arm across the back of Link’s seat as the car idled. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I’m still gonna need you to back up that statement.”

“Listen, if it makes you feel better about yourself to blame it on the fans and the crew, I won’t stop you. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

“I’m not blaming anything on anybody.”

Link peered at him over the top of his glasses, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t look at me like that, man,” Rhett complained. “If anything, you’re as guilty as I am.”

“Oh? Of what, specifically?”

“You started this. Why do you need my clarification?”

“I’m just gonna need you to say it. Own up.”

“You first.”

Link sat back, leaning a shoulder against the door as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You like it.”

“That’s not owning up. You’re supposed to be admitting  _you_  like it.”

He shrugged. “I do.”

Rhett flexed his fingers open and closed on the steering wheel before dropping them to his lap. “What, specifically?”

“Flirting with you.”

“Why?”

Link grinned. “Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

Rhett threw back his head in a laugh. “Adorable??”

Link just grinned wide in reply. Rhett wagged a finger at him.

“I do  _not_  get flustered.”

“Did I mention you’re full of shit?”

“You’re trying to bait me, but I’m not—”

Rhett was cut off when in one fluid motion, Link leaned forward, grabbed Rhett’s shirt, and pulled their lips together. Rhett could feel Link’s grin against his mouth, but it didn’t stop him from melting into the kiss, softening and parting his own lips, just a little, just to taste Link’s breath before pulling away. 

Once his eyes had refocused on Link’s face, he saw that his friend was grinning again. Link poked an index finger into each of Rhett’s round, blushing cheeks.

“See? Flustered.” And just like that, he was out the door.


	13. On the Roof of MythEnt

As if they weren’t already close enough, lying arm-against-arm and hip-against-hip, their heads were angled toward one other so that their hair overlapped on the plaid blanket. Rhett pointed up into the orange, murky abyss.

“There’s Cassandra, the Witch. See her?”

“Is she meant to look like a blob of smog and light pollution?”

“Yes, that’s her thing. See her?”

Link chuckled. “Yup, I see her. Look.” Instead of pointing with his own finger, he grabbed Rhett’s hand and moved it to a new patch of sky. “Romeo the Bloodhound.”

“He looks a lot like Cassandra.”

“Weird, right? LA constellations are so boring.”

Rhett sniffed out a laugh, then his smile turned sad. “Why did we never do this until now?”

“We were too busy.”

“We were always busy.”

They fell silent again. The sounds of the street below filled the void, but they barely heard it. They were tuned only to their own thoughts and the potent presence of the other. Then Link felt warm fingers curl into his own, and he laced his own around them.

“What do we do now?”

“We’ve talked about this,” Rhett whispered. “We figure it out. One foot in front of the other.”

“This has been our whole lives for so long.”

Rhett swallowed hard. “We figure it out.”

Link turned toward him, curling into his shoulder and burying his face. Rhett let his hand go and lifted Link’s face to look at him.

“We’re okay. We still got each other.”

He inched forward, paused, and Link completed the distance. The kiss was quiet, slow and sweet. Then Link rested his head back into the crook of Rhett’s arm. They lay in silence for some time, until finally Rhett sighed.

“Alright, man. Let’s go lock up for the last time.”


	14. On Camera

“Cats are not ‘cute.’ They are dead-eyed, furry balls of malice. You cannot convince me otherwise.”

“Don’t you remember when you didn’t want a dog? And now look at you, almost as obsessed with Barbara as I am with Jade.”

“ _Almost?_ Link, you can’t even  _begin_  to understand the depths of my love for Barbara. But that is not the same thing. I never hated dogs.”

“And someday you won’t hate cats either. You don’t have to maintain the facade just because you’re on camera. This isn’t the hill you have to die on, dude.”

“Yes it is.” Rhett looked squarely into the camera. “This is the hill I will die on. Cats are not cute. Cats are—”

His thought was interrupted by a press against his upper arm, and he looked to see Link nuzzling him. When he chuckled along with the crew, Link purred. His hands were balled into soft fists which he began to knead against Rhett’s torso.

“Mreow?”

“It’s not gonna work, man.”

Link worked his nuzzles up Rhett’s shoulder, into the crook of his neck, and into his beard. A giggle bubbled out of Rhett. Then he kissed the tip of Link’s nose.

Link straightened, grin spreading across his face.

“Mreow!”

He planted a loud smack of a kiss onto Rhett’s lips, so caught up in the moment that he forgot they were being watched. A collective gasp filled the room. Both men turned to face the camera, their cheeks hot and red. No one spoke for a long time. Then Link’s voice creaked out through an embarrassed smile.

“Thank you for liking, commenting, and subscribing.”

When only silence followed, Link turned to look at Rhett. His face was frozen in shock, blush set. Link nudged him, but he said nothing. Then Stevie’s voice came through the speakers.

“You know what time it is!”


	15. On the Steps of the Dorm

When Rhett caught hold of the passing thought as they stared up the expanse of rusty brown brick, he chuckled under his breath. He couldn’t have grown much since college began, if at all. But the fact remained: the building seemed smaller up close than he remembered. He shook his head and decided to entertain the notion aloud.

“Did it shrink? Or did we grow?”

Link chuckled in similar fashion. “It wasn’t that long ago we lived here.”

“Feels like it.”

Link turned around and lowered, folding his legs till he was seated on the hard concrete step. He crossed his arms over his knees and looked up expectantly at Rhett, who took the cue and lowered to the space beside him.

“Remember our first night here?” 

Rhett laughed. “You were like a toddler on Pixie Sticks. You wouldn’t settle down and go to sleep. You were too wired on the adrenaline of it all.”

“We were free! Don’t tell me you weren’t excited too!”

Rhett grinned and bumped his shoulder into Link’s. “Yeah. I was excited. It was just…us. We could make our own life.”

“And did we?”

Rhett turned to look at his face. “Did we what?”

“Make our own life? Did we grab life by the balls and swallow it whole?”

“You wanna eat balls?”

“Not literally, of course.”

“Guinea pig balls would probably be small enough; it may not be so bad. I’m sure it could be arranged—”

“—Shut up, dude.”

Rhett laughed again and leaned into him. “I get what you’re saying though.”

Link pressed back, then he dragged his knuckles against the denim stretched across Rhett’s thigh, back and forth in short, light strokes. He felt the words stick in his throat, and he couldn’t decide whether to spit them out or swallow them down. But they fluttered across his tongue before he’d made up his mind.

“Did we miss our chance?”

Rhett sighed. He looked up and across the lawn, down the sidewalks running to and from the dorm. A quick glance up the steps behind them. Then he entwined his fingers with Link’s.

“Maybe.”

“Why?” Link squeezed his hand and looked up at him. “Why maybe? Why can’t we just—”

“—You wanna put everything on hold till you got this sorted out? Till we decide…what this…” Rhett huffed in frustration, let go of Link’s hand, and threaded his fingers into his hair. “You’re gonna get married soon.”

“It’s not like…”

“Don’t be stupid, man. You can’t have it both ways. If this…was ever…you know. You just, you can’t. You can’t have it all. Neither of us can.”

Rhett felt his heart squeeze out of his chest when Link’s lips met his without warning. He wanted nothing more than to glance around again, panic-stricken with the exposure. But Link’s mouth was soft and his hands were warm and firm on his jaw, and in spite of himself, Rhett’s eyes slipped closed. When Link pulled away, seconds or years later, his breath whispered over Rhett’s lips.

“Let’s run away. I never really needed anyone but you.”

Rhett sighed and pressed their foreheads together. “Don’t be stupid.”

“I mean it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t think I’d do it?”

“No. I don’t. We got finals tomorrow, graduation on Sunday, and not to mention the fact that your girlfriend would hate you forever.”

“Christy wouldn’t be the first girl to hate me for lovin’ you.”

Rhett turned away and looked out across the lawn again. “Don’t tell me that.”

“It’s true. I love—”

“—Stop. Don’t say it.”

“Why not?”

Rhett sighed again. “’Cause then I might just do it. Finals be damned.”


	16. In the Loft

“I think it’s time we address the elephant.”

Rhett’s eyes are closed, but Link knew he wasn’t sleeping and entered the loft talking, no preamble. Rhett’s mouth widens in a grin, and he keeps his eyes shut when he answers.

“So address it.”

Link sighs and flops down into his recliner. “At first, we didn’t kiss because it was too gay. Then we didn’t kiss because we convinced ourselves we weren’t interested. Now we don’t kiss because it’s what they’re all expecting and we just want to prove them wrong.”

“‘Them’ who?”

Link’s hands fly up in a wild gesture to the air around them. “Everybody. Every single body.”

Rhett finally opens his eyes and turns his head toward him. “So we’re not kissing out of principle. That’s what you’re saying.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Link confirms with a nod, then leans back and runs his hands into his hair. “But now…I don’t know which is worse. Is it better to avoid it to prove them wrong or is that just letting them call the shots?”

“You don’t like being marionetted by the masses?”

Link groans. “Why am I agonizing about this?”

“It’s what you do. You’ve been agonizing about it since middle school.”

“I have not.”

“Liar.”

Link stares at him, mouth agape with offense. A belly laugh bursts from Rhett at the sight, and his hand presses to his chest. Once he recovers, he sits up and leans forward on his elbows.

“You don’t think I saw you turning it over in your head all those years we were growing up? Trying to talk yourself into taking the plunge? Just to see what would happen?”

“I know what would happen. Kissing is kissing. It’s just mouths touching. Not that complicated.”

Rhett rolls his eyes. “If it’s no big deal, then do it.”

Link’s eyes widen. “Now?”

“Why not? Get it over with. Stop agonizing.”

Link’s voice drops to a whisper. “But it’s what they want.”

“Screw ‘em,” Rhett whispers back with a playful grin. “Do it for you.”

“Who says I ain’t doin’ it for  _you_?”

Rhett laughs and leans in, and Link meets him mid-way. The kiss is short but soft and genuine, and they part with smiles playing at their lips.

“All that hype, all those years,” Rhett chuckles, leaning back. “How was it?”

“Beardy.”

Rhett’s eyes fall closed again. “Wake me up if you need another taste.”

“That’s just what they want you to say.”

“And that’s why no one would ever have to know.”

Rhett can’t see him, but he can hear the grin spread across Link’s face.


	17. After Rhett's Basketball Game

The air feels like pure oxygen on Rhett’s skin, still damp with sweat, and super-heated. He knows Link was there at the end; his was the first face he’d found in the crowd, the first smile he’d sought out.

But the crowd is behind him and trickling out the door, and Rhett’s rounding the building. He knows where to find him. His legs are like jello but he runs, high on the cool air and the rush of pride and something even sweeter.

Link’s leaning against the brick wall and grinning wide, arms folded across his chest.

“You kicked that game’s ass.”

Rhett swallows his agreement, caught sinking into the something sweeter at the sight of him. He thanks him with a flash of his teeth and a proximity not typical of boys their age.

“Thanks for comin’.”

Link scoffs. “Like I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

Rhett leans in closer. Something has shifted in the air between them in the past couple weeks, and somehow he knows this is his place, to lean in. He presses a palm to the wall above Link’s head and stands over him, surrounding him. His tongue gets caught over the words trying to find their way out, so he simply grins again, so hard his mouth starts to ache.

“You looked good out there.” Link’s voice is quieter now, his expression soft and open.

“Yeah?”

Link nods. “Real good,” he whispers.

Rhett exhales, momentarily overcome. He feels his limbs wanting to tremble in anticipation, but he fights it down, keeps his cool. He lowers his head and presses his mouth to Link’s brow. Link chuckles.

“You smell good too.”

Rhett laughs against his hair. “I stink.”

“Not from here. You smell…I dunno. I can’t describe it.”

“Like sweat?”

“Like Rhett.”

Rhett laughs again and dips his head to leave the kiss they’ve danced around for as long as he can remember. It feels so natural he almost forgets it’s the first until Link’s hands wrap around his ribs and draw him in. And he leans in, presses Link to the wall, their breaths dancing between gasps and laughter until they’re breathless, and they part to look each other in the eye as they find the oxygen again.

“We should…probably talk about this,” Rhett says.

“Wanna spend the night?” Link whispers.

Rhett takes him by the hand, and they run.


	18. In Link's Flipped Pickup, Summer, 1994

He had this. Sure, Rhett had busted the Nasty’s tire last time they’d taken this curve on a new-license joy ride, but Link was a man of precision and control. Where Rhett had slammed the brake and spun out, Link would lean in, hit the gas and cruise around the turn like it was an art form.

It wasn’t until he felt the wheels lifting that the panic began to take hold. There was a moment of disorientation and helplessness as the world reversed and their sense of inertia slammed to a halt. Link’s first instinct was to turn to Rhett for reassurance, but instead of seeing him across the bench seat where he belonged, he was pressed up against Link’s side, haloed by the sky beyond.

The off-kilter view added to his heightened senses, and he felt everything. The gravel was digging into his bare shoulder through the open window as Rhett’s weight pressed him down, hot and sticky and too, too close, too much skin and pure adrenaline. Link was holding his breath, and he exhaled in a barking gasp tinged with amusement.

Rhett looked him over, wide-eyed, searching Link’s body for wounds. But when he saw the grin spread across his friend’s face, his own followed. They burst together into laughter, Link blanketed by Rhett’s sweaty limbs as they laughed tears down their cheeks. Finally, when he’d recovered, Link splayed back, down against the rectangle of dirt behind him.

“What now?”

Rhett’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp. 

“I’m dead.”

“Not funny, dude. I coulda killed ya.”

“You did. I’m dead. For real this time.”

Link shoved at his shoulders. “You’re not dead. You’re heavy. Get off me.”

“Can’t. You’re gonna have to live the rest of your life knowin’ you killed me.”

“Stop it, man!” Link hated the way his throat tightened as the reality of what could have been narrowed to a concentrated pinprick in his view. He could have killed him. He could have killed Rhett. He shoved him again, too hard and too angry. “Get off me! You’re not dead!”

Rhett’s smile faded as he opened his eyes and peered down at the frantic face of the man beneath him. “Whoa, dude, I’m joking.”

“Get off me!” Link shouted again, putting his legs into the effort. Rhett scrambled against gravity to dodge the limbs flying at him. 

“Frickin’ stop, man, I’m tryin’ to get up! You gotta help me! Chill out!” Link was near hyperventilating, and Rhett reached down and cupped his face with his hands. “I’m okay. We’re okay. I shouldn’ta joked about it.”

Link dragged the oxygen into his lungs and nodded shallowly while Rhett mirrored the action, holding him still. They held each other’s gaze while Rhett breathed with him in rhythm as Link’s pace slowed.

“You wanna stand up?” Rhett asked when he seemed calm enough. Link nodded again, and they untangled their limbs until they were both standing on the rocky ground through the driver’s side window, pressed close in the tight space. “You alright?”

Link responded by throwing his arms around Rhett’s middle and burying his face against his shoulder. Rhett felt the adrenaline still shivering through his body as it found its way out of his system, and he pressed a kiss to Link’s temple. The small act brought Link’s head up and their lips together.

When they parted, Link dropped his forehead to Rhett’s chest, evading his eyes.

“M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, man. You don’t—”

“—Not that. I’m sorry I almost killed you.”

Rhett’s brow furrowed. “Oh. But the other thing…”

Link raised his head and looked him in the eye. “Not sorry about that.”


	19. In the "Undisclosed Location" Studio

When the camera switched off, they were quiet. Rhett retook his place in his chair to Link’s left and lay his hands flat on the small table in front of them.

“So what do we think?”

Link sniffed out a laugh. “I love that we, plural, apparently think in unison.”

Rhett shrugged, not about to backpedal on his pronoun usage. He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. “Does this seem…I dunno, sustainable?”

Link shrugged. “I guess we figure it out as we go. If it doesn’t go anywhere, it wasn’t so painful to try, right?” He mirrored Rhett’s posture and leaned back, then spun his chair around to face the green backdrop behind them.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Rhett knew what he meant, but he swallowed it down, played it cool. “What?”

“About feeling like you were half of somethin’ before you met me?”

Rhett swallowed, Link’s eyes were on the backdrop, but Rhett could feel him tracking him in his periphery. He, too, spun around to face the wall, to feel less exposed. He cleared his throat.

“‘Course I did. You’re my…y’know, my brother. You know that.”

Link nodded, and they let their words hang in the air of the small basement studio. Then he wagged the leg closest to Rhett in and out, thumping it against Rhett’s thigh.

“We could do a green screen thing. Exotic backgrounds or somethin’.”

“Pretend we’re shootin’ on location at some tropical beach.”

“We’ll put a fan on so it looks like breeze!”

“I’ll wear a coconut bra!”

Link barked out a laugh and clapped his hand over his mouth, and Rhett’s nose crinkled as he chuckled. Then he felt the warmth of Link’s thigh beneath his palm, and he wondered when he’d put it there. For a moment he panicked, but a moment was all it took before he felt Link’s hand cover his own.

“I think I felt it too. The half-of-somethin’ feeling.”

Rhett’s voice felt thick when he pressed the word from his throat. “Yeah?”

“It’s not just…” Link trailed off, and Rhett squeezed his thigh to coax him.

“Just what?”

Link traced his thumb along the veins in Rhett’s hand in answer. “Just, like…brothers. It’s somethin’ else.”

Rhett swallowed before whispering, “What kinda somethin’?”

Link took his face in both hands and kissed him, pulling him in. Rhett’s hands went to Link’s hair and gripped for stability, and when his balance wanted to topple him into Link’s lap, he pulled the long, wavy hair in his fists, and Link groaned against his mouth. 

This was something else entirely.


End file.
